The School for Wicked Witches #2, page 11
Three heads spun to face her.
“The poem says we have to leave behind wits, courage, and heart.” Ava held up a finger for each. “Moldy said there are three barriers, and on this one, we’re losing the person who answered an impossible question right.”
Henry’s eyes went wide. “Wits,” he said. “The first thing.”
“Yay!” said Crow, looking delighted. “I’m the smart one!”
“Exactly,” said Ava. “That means in the next barrier, we’ll probably have to leave the bravest person behind.”
“At least it won’t be me, then,” said Henry with a laugh.
“Will you be okay waiting?” Ava asked Crow. “You’ll have to stay here until whoever gets to the forge calls Yee-Haw.”
“Oh, sure!” He waved his free hand. “I’ll just hang out with needle lady. Could someone get some snacks out of my bag, though?”
Henry got out snacks and set them on the lady’s lap where Crow could reach. The statue didn’t seem to mind.
“Okay, so, are we ready for the next barrier?” Tinabella said.
“Yup,” said Ava. “Bye, Crow! You’re amazing!”
Henry grabbed Crow in a hug. Crow patted him on the head.
“I’ll see you all super soon!” he said. “Good luck!”
Henry let go, and the remaining questers headed for the giant gear at the far side of the room. It gave a thunk as they approached, rolling aside to reveal a darkness so thick even the blue light couldn’t penetrate it. Hot, moist air smelling of iron and old meat rolled over them.
“Well,” said Tinabella. “This looks super fun and not at all scary.”
“You got this!” called Crow.
Side by side, Ava and the others stepped into the darkness to find out if he was right.
Ava’s shoulders bumped against Henry and Tinabella as the three of them entered the darkness, but nobody seemed to mind. There was a definite comfort being close together as the warm, sharp air wrapped around them and the giant gear locked shut, cutting off every trace of light.
They stood there, hearts pounding. Ava thought she could detect a noise, a kind of soft scratching just on the edge of hearing.
“So, what?” said Tinabella. “Are we supposed to go walking into who-knows-what in the pitch dark?” She poked Ava. “Come on, let’s have some light.”
The moment she spoke the word, light flared all around. As their eyes adjusted and the three of them saw what they were facing, Ava really, really wished it hadn’t.
They were in a long, narrow chamber of flat gray rock. The light was green, shining out of crystal veins running the length of the walls. On the far side was another giant gear: the door to the third barrier.
And filling the space in between, stretching from wall to wall and starting barely an inch from where they were standing, was a pit. A pit overflowing with jumping, scrabbling, writhing black insects.
They screamed and stepped back.
Now that Ava could see what was causing it, the scratching sound seemed to grow louder, clawing its way into her brain alongside the smell.
“What are they?” she gasped, staring at the tiny, shiny insects. She could feel Henry trembling beside her.
“Spiny scab fleas,” said Tinabella. “Looks like we finally found some.”
All Professor Mulch’s start-of-year warnings about spiny scab fleas flashed through Ava’s mind, particularly the part where one bite would fill your veins with thousands more of the stinging, biting insects.
She felt her stomach flip as she understood what the second barrier was. Somehow, they had to get across the pit.
She and the others scanned the room, looking for a solution, and something caught her eye: a wooden lever set into the wall in the exact middle of the pit, just above the roiling fleas.
The green light made her friends’ faces look as sickly as she felt as she turned, the horrible truth of what one of them would have to do settling over her.
“The lever?” said Tinabella. “Yeah, I see it, too.”
“Do you think it gets us across?” asked Henry.
“It has to. It’s the only option.”
“We should try magic first, though, right?” said Ava.
Tinabella scowled. “It’s worth a try. But I think we all know how this will end.”
Unfortunately, Tinabella turned out to be correct.
Ava’s water powers found nothing to work with, Tinabella’s circles of protection kept fizzling out, and Henry’s duck-and-return couldn’t make the slightest difference to the fleas, the lever, or the problem.
Ava and Tinabella began bickering about their lack of options, and were soon so busy arguing they almost missed it when Henry gave a sigh, lowered his bag to the stone floor, and said, “I’ll do it.”
They broke off, blinking at him.
Henry looked ready to throw up, his pale skin glowing sickly green like the crystals in the walls, but there was a set to his jaw that Ava had never seen before.
“You’ll do what?” she asked.
“I’ll climb in the pit and pull the lever.”
“Funny.” Tinabella snorted. “No one can go in the pit without getting bitten by a billion spiny scab fleas. That’s kind of the point?”
“I can.”
Ava stared at Henry. Then, in a happy rush, she remembered.
“Your pin!” she said. “The one you got from Vivienne!”
Henry nodded, pulling aside his robes to reveal a green stone set in gold.
“Wait, hang on,” said Tinabella after Henry and Ava had explained. “You got to ask the Vivienne Morderay for anything you wanted—anything at all—and you asked for a pin to keep you safe from insects?!”
Henry shrugged. “I worry. This way I worry about one less thing.”
“Have you tested it yet?” Ava asked. “Are you certain it’ll work?”
“I haven’t been bitten by anything since I got it …” Henry rubbed a thumb over the green jewel. “Only one way to find out, I guess.”
With two quick steps and a jump, he leapt feet-first into the pit.
Tinabella grabbed Ava’s arm, and they watched, horrified, as Henry disappeared under the bouncing, scrabbling fleas.
“Is he—” croaked Tinabella.
“I can’t—” Ava rasped.
Then a hand emerged from the seething mass, followed by a head, and finally the rest of Henry’s upper body. He was breathing hard, his eyes huge and staring, but he wasn’t crying out in pain or digging his nails into his skin. He wasn’t speckled with bleeding bite marks.
He looked okay.
“Well,” he said, his voice even fainter than normal, “I guess it works.”
Ava wanted to jump in and shake him.
“What were you thinking?!” she said. “Why didn’t you try putting a hand in first to see? Or what if the pit was super deep and you literally drowned in fleas?”
Henry shivered, his face twitching.
“What is it?” Tinabella stepped forward. “Are they biting?”
“No.” Henry shook his head. “The pin is working. But they’re still—gah! They’re still crawling all over me.” He did a shuffling little dance. “Oh, no, no, no. They’re in my socks! This is the—eep! This is the worst—whahah!—feeling!”
Ava watched him writhe, buried up to his armpits in the ocean of jumping fleas. She couldn’t imagine what it must feel like. It made her skin break out in phantom itches just thinking about it.
“Well, you’re there now,” she called. “Can you get to the lever?”
Henry was flinching nonstop, his face twisting in agony, but he gave a thumbs-up and began wading toward the lever. He had to use his arms, scooping through the fleas, and two steps on, he made a low moaning noise.
“What’s up?” called Tinabella.
“I tried to grow my shoes to get a little—eep!—higher, but the floor under here is super slippery for some—g’huhuh!—reason.” Henry sounded like he wanted to cry. “Ohh, what is that?”
“You’re doing great, buddy!” Ava said, trying to take over Crow’s usual role as cheerleader. “Just ignore it and keep going!”
Somehow Henry did keep going, and a minute later he had reached the wall and was wrapping a hand around the lever.
“Ready?” he yelled.
“Ready!” Ava and Tinabella replied.
Henry tugged. The lever didn’t move.
He tried again, pulling harder. Still nothing.
At last he got both hands around it and jumped, hanging all his weight from the lever. With a reluctant creak, it moved, shifting into place, and several things happened at once.
The giant gear on the far side of the chamber gave a thunk and rolled aside, revealing a stone hallway lit with friendly yellow light.
Another thunk came from the ceiling, and with a great deal of rattling, a two-foot-wide slab of stone lowered down on ancient chains, coming to rest just above the flea pit, forming a perfect bridge.
“Yes!” Tinabella grabbed Ava and danced them in a circle. “Way to go, Henry!”
“I knew you could do it!” cheered Ava.
“Yay,” Henry called weakly. “Can I come back now?”
“Of course!”
Ava was beyond ready to carry on with their quest. Whoever built all these security measures probably thought they were doing something super useful for the school, but right now they were incredibly frustrating.
Henry released the lever and started toward them. He only made it a few steps through the fleas, however, before the lever abruptly thunked back to where it had been. In a whir of chains and metal, the bridge over the pit began to rise.
“No! No-no-no-no-no-no!” cried Ava, grabbing at the retreating stone. She missed, teetering on the edge of the pit, and Tinabella yanked her to safety.
Henry scooped quickly back through the fleas and heaved the lever down again. To Ava’s immense relief, the bridge re-lowered.
She and Tinabella looked at each other, then at Henry.
“Hey, buddy?” Ava said. “I think maybe—”
“I—agh!—know,” Henry said. “I have to stay here and hold it so you can get through.”
“We knew someone would have to stay behind,” said Tinabella. “And guess what, Henry: This makes you the brave one after all!”
“Hooray,” said Henry, clinging to the lever. “Um, can you two—hreesh!—please hurry so I can get out once you’re gone?”
“You got it!” Ava stepped onto the bridge, keeping a tight grip on the chains for balance. The stone slab swayed as Tinabella climbed on behind her, and they started across.
“Thanks so much, Henry,” Ava said as they neared the middle. “You’re the bravest friend in the world.”
“Yeah,” said Tinabella. “I really hope the lights stay on once we leave.”
Henry moaned. “Ohh, I didn’t think of that. I guess I could still—gnargh!—get back to the entrance by following the wall in the dark, if I—fwaha!—had to.”
“That’s the spirit!” Ava said.
At last she and Tinabella were stepping off the bridge and onto the landing on the other side.
They had conquered the second barrier.
“Bye, Henry,” Tinabella called. “We’ll see you soon. Remember, no using the Yee-Haw spell, no matter what.” She started for the door, then turned back. “Hey, how about giving us the end of the poem again? The bit after we leave wit and courage behind.”
“Lose your heart and you will find,” recited Henry, “the hammer made of stinging metal / Strike three times to reset—yowch!—Nettle.”
“Got it,” said Tinabella, disappearing through the door.
“You’re the best, Henry!” Ava called. “Seriously!”
With one last wave, she followed after Tinabella, ready to take on whatever terrors the third and final barrier had in store.
The hallway curved ahead to the left, and Ava followed it, stepping out into a small, round room of pale sandstone.
The ceiling was low. The air was warm. Yellow light filled the space, seeming to come from nowhere. There were no windows and no other doors.
It was a dead end.
Two plain wooden chairs sat facing each other in the center of the room. Tinabella was already sitting in one, her arms and legs crossed and one foot waggling anxiously.
“Hey,” she said. “Just us now.”
Ava nodded, crossing to the other chair. “Just us.”
“I kinda hoped this is how it would go,” said Tinabella. “But I never thought Henry would end up being the brave one.”
“Right?” Ava settled onto her chair. It was surprisingly comfortable. “Plus how did Crow end up being the wit?”
“Wild.”
“Totally.”
They sat in silence for a moment, not meeting each other’s eyes. Their chairs were very close together. Ava tried to shift hers back a little, but it was fixed to the floor.
“So, what do you think it means?” Ava asked. “You know, lose your heart?”
Tinabella recrossed her legs, bouncing the other foot. “It’s obvious: There must be a hidden door or something, and only one of us gets to go forward and find the hammer.”
“Yeah,” said Ava. “But what does that have to do with a heart?”
“Maybe whoever wants it the most gets to go?”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm.”
They settled into silence again, a competitive thrum building between them.
“To be honest, I was hoping something dramatic might happen when you sat down,” Tinabella said. “Like the chairs would choose whoever was worthiest, or whatever.”
Ava nodded. “That would have been super useful. But I guess it’s up to us to do something.”
“Any ideas besides sitting here and seeing what happens?”
“Not yet. We’re in kind of a hurry, though. Sunset’s not gonna wait.”
“I’m not sure this room cares.”
The silence returned. Ava found herself wishing there were a ticking clock, or running water, or pretty much any sound to interrupt it. She almost would have taken the rustling of the spiny scab fleas. The room’s warm air combined with the quiet and the low ceiling was making her all too aware how far underground they were, how much rock and dirt and school was pressing down above their heads.
Tinabella was frowning now, rolling her neck to glare at the blank walls. “Something seriously needs to happen,” she said, raising her voice. “If anyone’s listening—a guardian, or spell, or whatever—we’ve got places to be!”
The room was too small for an echo, and her words vanished into the blanketing silence.
“Guess no one’s listening.” An odd expression quirked across Tinabella’s face, and she glanced at Ava. “Hey, speaking of listening, it must feel pretty weird knowing Vivienne was eavesdropping every time you talked to your family in that mirror.”
Ava met her gaze, surprised Tinabella would make things even more awkward by reminding her of the scene in the library. She forced a laugh. “Weird is right!” she said. “It’s super embarrassing having someone like Vivienne Morderay see how small our house is.”
What actually embarrassed Ava was Vivienne seeing how little anyone in her family understood her. But she wasn’t going to talk about that.
“I get it,” said Tinabella. “I wouldn’t want anyone watching the fights I’ve had with my dad.”
“Oh.” Ava was surprised all over again. She couldn’t remember Tinabella mentioning her family since their first few weeks as roommates. “Yeah?”
“Ohhh yeah. He gave me whatever I wanted growing up, but he never had time for me. You know, to do stuff or whatever. Then he got me kicked out of North Oz Witch Academy and sent here just so he could add one more waterfall to his collection! Like I didn’t even matter! Vivienne was totally right about letting all that family mess go. You can’t let people who don’t get you hold you back.”
Ava puffed out her cheeks. “I’m not so sure. I love my family, and I don’t think I could ever be really happy if I didn’t make them super proud of me at least once.” She swallowed. “Even if that’s starting to feel completely impossible.”
Tinabella eyed her. “Hey, sorry,” she said. “That I called you weird before.”
Ava blinked. “What?”
“You know, back in the brick room? And during our whole escape attempt? The day after the clocks?”
“Oh.” The silence settled in again as Ava thought back. “That.”
“I was just being dramatic. You’re actually surprisingly cool sometimes,” said Tinabella.
“Thank you?”
“I mean it. It was super cool how you figured out the connection between the poem and the accordions. I never would have gotten this far without you.” Tinabella waved around at the dead-end room. “We probably would’ve been trapped behind the nettle wall forever.”
Ava found herself caught in the usual jumpy mix of emotions she’d felt around Tinabella lately. Why was her roommate so good at making her self-conscious one minute and happy the next? And why did she still really want Tinabella to like her despite everything that had happened?
Maybe after this the two of them would talk more. Maybe they could start over again—again—and rebuild a better friendship.
“We do make kind of a good team,” Ava observed.
Tinabella smiled. “Darn right!”
“But for now, we’re stuck and the clock’s running, and we’ve still got to get to the forge.”
Tinabella eyed Ava again, her gaze considering, as though she were coming to a decision. Then she sat up straight in her chair. “I think I know how to get us unstuck.”
“You do? How?!”
Instead of answering, Tinabella threw back her head. “LISTEN UP, ROOM!” she shouted, so loudly it made Ava wince. “I’M STAYING HERE! AVA’S GOING TO THE FORGE ALONE!”
“Wait,” Ava said. “What?”
The room began to shudder around them. Cracks appeared in the floor, and the smooth sandstone dropped away to one side, revealing a narrow set of stairs leading down into a glowing red light.
In the same moment, Tinabella’s chair came to life, the wood twisting into ropes that wrapped themselves around her arms and legs. Ava watched in horror, remembering the chair that had captured her in Professor Waterwash’s office all those months ago, as Tinabella was tied up tight in a matter of seconds.
